


Marked By Fate

by mashed_potato_with_cheese



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Quidditch, Reader-Insert, Slytherin Common Room, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:42:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27151286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mashed_potato_with_cheese/pseuds/mashed_potato_with_cheese
Summary: Your crush on Draco Malfoy only gets worse when you receive your soulmate mark. Does his match yours, is he made for you? When he rescues you from a vengeful Gryffindor, you might just find out.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Reader
Kudos: 84





	Marked By Fate

**Author's Note:**

> TW: cursing, minor underage drinking, minor depictions of assault.

No one knows how it started. Dark magic, evolution, human nature. There are thousands of theories, all to no avail. We know as little as we always have. And it’s your day to experience it.

It’s your sixteenth birthday. At exactly 4:17 P.M, you will receive your mark. They appear right at the time you were born. It’s very unlucky for people born in the middle of the night since apparently, the marking process is painful.

You can’t decide if you’re jittery from excitement or fear. Maybe it’s both, but all you know is that Snape has lectured you three times and you still can’t keep still. 

“Miss Cowan!” he says loudly. “Five points from Hufflepuff for insolence and disturbing the class!”

“Sorry, Professor,” you mumble under your breath. He glares at you and turns back to teaching about cloaking potions. 

As soon as your final class is dismissed, you rush up to your dorm. You don’t want to be in public while you’re marked, which means you’ve got 17 minutes to get to the cellar and into your room. 

You make it in 10. Your dorm is bright and lovely, and you can’t help but smile when you walk in. It smells sweet, and it’s covered in yellow. Yellow walls, yellow bedsheets, yellow rug. You sit gingerly on your bed and wait. While the minutes tick down, a certain Slytherin creeps into your thoughts. Draco Malfoy, your handsome and infuriatingly oblivious best friend. You can’t help but hope that his mark will match yours. He already has his, but he’s never told you about it. It would probably be better if he had, and you could get over this stupid infatuation. Shaking him from your mind, you focus on the clock. 

5 more minutes.

3 more minutes.

1 more minute.

A light burning sensation creeps up your leg to your stomach. It stops on the left side of your rib cage. You lift your shirt to see it. There’s nothing there, which confuses you. Maybe it didn’t work? Maybe you don’t have a soulmate.

Blinding pain overtakes you. Someone is pressing a burning hot iron to your ribs, someone is branding you, scorching your skin. You can’t scream. You can’t cry. You feel frozen in pain. 

It won’t stop. 

Please make it stop.

The pain pulls away slowly, receding back down your legs, following the path it came. As it leaves your body, you notice that you’re trembling. Relief surges through you when all of the pain dissipates, and you collapse on your bed, your lungs heaving. When you try to sit up, your abs feel like jelly and you sink back down.

After a moment, you force yourself to sit up fully. It takes much more energy than it should have. As soon as you’re upright, the anxiety sets back in. This mark, this brand, would be on you forever. It determines your soulmate, the most important person in your life.

With shaky hands, you lift the hem of your shirt and scan your ribcage for the mark. It’s tiny, so small it takes a moment to make it out. Slowly, your eyes focus on the little form.

A bird. A miniature bird, its wings extended in flight across your skin. You gently trace your fingers on the mark, flinching at the contact. It stings slightly, but the feeling quickly fades, replaced by a feeling of warmth. Somewhere, someone is thinking about the little bird on their skin, wondering about the person it connects them to. An image of a very shirtless Draco with a bird tattoo pushes its way into your mind, and you shove it back out quickly. 

“Not the time,” you mutter to yourself. It’s dinner time, and you hardly ate lunch because of your nerves. With difficulty, you haul yourself off the bed and pull on some shoes.

The dining hall is full of laughter and talking. You sit at the Hufflepuff table next to your friend June, who immediately bombards you with questions.

“Did you get it? What is it? Do you like it? Who do you think your soulmate is?” She looks so excited that you have to grin at her. 

“I got it,” you reply, eliciting a squeal from June. “It’s a bird on my ribcage, and yes, I do like it. I have no idea who my soulmate is.” 

“Oh, well, you’ll find them soon. You have to show it to me later, okay?”

“I promise,” you respond with a small laugh. “Gryffindor is playing Slytherin today, so I’ll show you after the game when I change into party clothes.” 

“Party?” June asks, confused.

“Yeah, I’m going to the after party of whichever house wins,” you respond. “And you’re coming with me, duh.”

“Oooh, okay. Sounds fun,” she says excitedly.

June got her tattoo a few months ago. It’s a flower on her ankle, and it suits her perfectly. She found her soulmate pretty much instantly since as soon as she got it she asked everyone what their mark was until she found Alex, who was thrilled to find her. They’re sickeningly adorable. 

“Hey, y/n!” a voice says from behind you. “Coming to the game tonight?”

“Obviously, Draco,” you reply smoothly. “I wouldn’t miss the chance to see you lose.” He laughs and punches you in the shoulder. You’re the only person who can tease Draco without getting shoved down the stairs.

“I think you’ll be disappointed, love,” he says. The nicknamed sends shivers through you.

“Well, I’d hope you win. Slytherin parties are always better.”

“That they are. Crabbe and Goyle are going to smuggle in Firewhiskey,” he says with a wink. Your face flushes embarrassingly.

“Then I’ll be there when you win, Star Seeker,” you say jokingly. His face is serious though.

“Good. I like seeing you in the stands.” His eyes are fixed on yours. You can’t speak, all you can do is look back at him and wonder if he meant what you’re thinking. Suddenly, his serious expression fades and he reaches into his book bag.

“I nearly forgot, I brought you one of my Slytherin sweaters. You’d better be wearing green when we win.” He hands the sweater to you, and you take it shyly.

“Thank you,” you say. “It’d be embarrassing to be wearing the losing team’s colors.” You manage a joking smile, which Draco returns before standing up and returning to his table. June erupts in giggles when he leaves. She’s the only one that knows about your crush.

“Not a word,” you say harshly, which only makes her laugh more. Her infectious joy draws a small smile from you, and eventually, you’re laughing with her.

“Come on, Mrs. Malfoy, let’s get to the Quidditch pitch and get good seats. Wouldn’t want your dear lover boy to be unable to see his dear Hufflepuff.”

“Shut up,” you say, elbowing her. She grins and grabs your hand, pulling you along with her. 

It’s a chilly day. You pull on Draco’s sweater as soon as you get outside. June makes a kissy face at you.

“He was just being nice,” you say, even though you hope you’re wrong.

“I bet his sweater smells nice, doesn’t it?” she teases. She’s not wrong. It smells like apples and parchment and smoke, an odd but wonderful combination. You choose to ignore June’s question despite admitting that.

Since you’re so early on the pitch, you get front row seats in one of the best stands. June pulls a blanket out of her bag and covers you both with it. 

“Honestly, what don’t you have in your bag?” you ask.

“My preparedness is part of my charm,” she says, pulling out some sweets and dumping them in your lap.

“It definitely is,” you say with a grin, unwrapping a chocolate frog. 

The players walk out onto the field, standing tall and gripping their brooms. You cheer loudly, whooping at the top of your lungs when you see Draco. He scans the stands until he sees you, then smiles widely and winks, making you blush. June gives you a knowing smile before turning back to the field. You roll your eyes and look down at the Quidditch pitch, where the players are mounting their brooms. 

“And they’re off!” calls Lee Jordan over the speakers. Brooms soar through the air, red and green streaks across the cloudy sky. Slytherin almost immediately gets possession of the Quaffle and scores easily. You cheer loudly and clap your hands, but the Chasers aren’t your main concern. You’re preoccupied with watching Draco, hovering in the air scanning for the Snitch. He’s stunning, his blond hair messy from the wind, his pale skin practically glowing in the sun that breaks through the clouds. Even the way he sits on his broom is attractive, one hand gripping the handle and the other swinging freely by his side. He’s leaned back in a way that makes him look almost relaxed, like he could care less about his surroundings. As you watch him, you’re reminded of the little bird on your skin, and you can’t help but let your eyes drift to his ribcage, wondering if bears a matching mark. 

The game’s been going for about an hour. The Snitch makes one or two appearances, but soon disappears. In the quickly fading light, it’s golden glow will be all but gone. Both teams are playing quite well, but Gryffindor is leading by twenty points. You can see the frustration in Draco’s face as he flies by. 

Suddenly, a flash of gold flies by the stands. It catches Draco’s eye and he shoots after it. You cheer loudly as he cuts through the air, determination set across his features, one hand outstretched. The Snitch evades him, flying just a foot out of reach. Draco’s eyes are set on the little ball and he fails to notice a Bludger heading straight for him.

“Draco, look out!” you yell. He looks up and darts out of the way just in time, the ball barely missing the end of his broom. You take a deep breath of relief which turns into a cheer as Draco lifts a hand, triumphantly clutching the Snitch.

“Slytherin has caught the Snitch!” calls Lee Jordan. “Slytherin wins!” The crowd around you erupts in cheers, and you and June are among the loudest.

“That was incredible!” says June.

“It was,” you agree happily. “Draco was amazing!” You realize what you said and glare at June, who is looking at you with wide eyes and an even wider smile. You roll your eyes.

“He’s my friend, I’m allowed to say he’s good at Quidditch,” you say exasperatedly.

“My dear, marvelous Draco was so amazing in Quidditch today, I may faint,” June teases. You smiles despite yourself and elbow her.

“Shut up, we’re going to the party,” you say. June grins and packs up her bag.

You stop by your dorm to change. June insists on helping you pick out your clothes, which is why you’re wearing a tight, cropped t-shirt with a high neck and black jeans that hug your legs. June wears a low-cut sunny yellow dress that clings to her skin, and she looks amazing as usual.

“Is Alex coming?” you ask as she pulls on a pair of heels.

“Probably,” she says with a shrug.

“You’ll knock his socks off if he is.”

“And you’ll seduce Draco without even trying,” she says with a wink. You blush and roll your eyes at her teasing.

The party is in full swing by the time you both get there. By the looks of it, half the common room is already hammered. The air is thick with sweat and the smell of alcohol, the room full of bodies pressed against each other.

“Hey, love,” a voice calls. You turn to see Draco behind you. “A drink for the lady?”

“Don’t mind if I do,” you say, plucking the drink from his hand and downing it. Draco laughs when you wince from the burning liquor.

“Come on, let’s dance,” he says, grabbing your hand and pulling you through the crowd. When you find a relatively empty space, he spins you around, making you laugh.

“I never told you congratulations, by the way. You played really well,” you say. Draco grins.

“Thanks, love. I had to play well for my dear y/n, of course.” His tone is teasing, but his words still make you blush. 

“I’d expect nothing less,” you reply, matching his tone. He suddenly leans in close to your face and puts an arm around your waist. Your breath freezes in your lungs.

“Oh, and happy birthday, love,” he says quietly. His voice is deep and raspy, sending shivers through you. You find yourself unable to speak, just staring into his stunning grey eyes. He pulls away with a grin and you relax a bit.

“Yeah, being branded was a really fun way to celebrate,” you say sarcastically. Someone yells from across the room, drawing your attention. Someone comes up and sets a crown on Draco’s head, and cheers break out. You smile as Draco revels in the praise. He’s the star of the show today. You retreat backwards a bit and find a place to sit down and watch the party. The strong liquor is already making you a bit foggy. Suddenly you feel the tip of a wand pressed against your throat.

“Don’t say anything,” a voice hisses. “Stand up and turn around.” You obey. There doesn’t appear to be another choice. A boy you don’t recognize has his wand under you chin, his face twisted in a cruel smile.

“You’re Draco’s little friend, aren’t you? The hero Draco, Slytherin’s champion. He cost us our match, and he’ll pay the price.” You close your eyes and swallow the lump in your throat. The boy is a Gryffindor who takes house pride to seriously. Your wand is in your room, forgotten in your hurry to get to the party. A hand grabs your wrist and pulls you forward, slowly walking you out of the room. No one seems to notice. The boy brings you out of the common room and into a nearby classroom. 

“Please don’t do this,” you say quietly. He ignores you and pushes you against a wall, a forearm pressed against your sternum, effectively pinning you. You lift your knee and slam it hard into his crotch, making him cry out in pain and release you. Before you can run away, though, he flicks his wand and throws you back against the wall, knocking the air out of your lungs. When he looks back at you, his face is full of rage. You don’t register his fist coming towards your face, don’t even register the blow until you’re on the ground and your cheek is pounding with pain. A kick strikes you in the ribs, sending another streak of pain through your body. You can almost hear your ribs crack. He grabs you and hauls you back to your feet, slamming you into the wall again. 

The next thing you know, he’s released you and you’re on the ground. You manage to look up. The Gryffindor boy is on the ground, his face bloody. Another boy whose face you can’t see is standing over him, breathing heavily. He walks over to you, kneels down, gently pulls you against him.

“Draco?” you say softly.

“Yes, it’s me. I’m here, you’re okay.” His voice is barely a whisper, but you can hear his panic. He gently brushes a strand of hair from your face, his touch feather soft. 

“I need to take a look at your ribs, okay?” he says. You nod as best you can, not realizing exactly what that entails until you feel him gently pulling up the hem of your shirt, stopping just below your bra line. He takes a sharp breath, and his fingers ever so gently touches the little bird, sending shivers through you. The shivers hurt, and you squint back tears. That seems to shake Draco from his thoughts. He pulls his wand out and mutters a few healing spells, easing the pain that had overtaken your body. 

“Let’s get to the hospital,” he says, gathering you in his arms. The feeling of being pressed against his chest is the last thing you remember.

You wake up in the hospital wing. All the pain is gone, Madam Pomfrey must have done something while you were unconscious. The bright lights of the infirmary temporarily blind you, and you blink hard a few times before your vision clears up. The room is empty save for a bed across the room from yours. You barely recognize the boy who hit you, his face is so bruised. Madam Pomfrey sweeps into the room.

“Oh good, you’re awake. You may leave whenever you feel like it. I’d suggest soon, dinner is soon.” 

“Thank you,” you reply. She nods and smiles kindly before attending to the boy. You pull off your blankets and swing your feet over the side of the bed, flinching at the cold floor. Your shoes are under the bed. A few shaky moments later, you’re standing up, shoes on, and walking towards the door.

You can’t help but wonder where Draco is. Of course, you can’t expect him to wait in the hospital wing while you’re asleep. He’s probably in the dining hall. 

As soon as you make it through the door, June crushes you in a hug, nearly knocking you off your feet.

“They wouldn’t let me see you, I was so worried. Draco told me what happened. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m okay. Madam Pomfrey fixed me right up,” you say with a reassuring smile. It seems to set June at ease, and she guides you to the Hufflepuff table. You scan the room for Draco, and see him looking at you from the Slytherin table. When you smile, he ducks his head away. You frown. Maybe you did something wrong.

Draco avoids you for the next few days. Whenever you get close to him, he pretends to not notice you or just flat-out walks away. June is livid at him, but you’re more confused. 

“The nerve of that git,” she fumes. You’re sitting in your dorm, eating sweets and talking about Draco.

“I’m not sure what I did wrong,” you muse.

“You didn’t do anything wrong! He’s being a arsehole for no reason!”

“I don’t know,” you say. 

“Merlin, I swear I’ll beat him up!” That draws a laugh from you. June is 5’3 and she weighs about 100 pounds. The idea of her beating anyone up was comical. She laughs with you after a moment. It feels nice not to worry for just a moment.

You decide to confront Draco the next day. After classes, you’ll go to Slytherin common room and make him talk to you. June offers to go with you, but you decide that this is something to do on your own.

The next day’s classes are excruciating. You can’t decide if you want them to go faster or slower. The dread of confronting Draco creeps up, and you almost bail. June won’t let you. Curse her for being a good friend.

You go warily to Slytherin common room. Draco tells you the passwords, so you have no problem getting in. The blond boy is sitting on a couch in the room. He looks up as you walk in, and his face pales. You go over to him and try to look calm, but your emotions are threatening to bubble over.

“Can we please talk?” you ask quietly. He’s silent, and you get frustrated. “Draco, whatever’s wrong, you can’t run from it forever.” 

He takes a deep breath and nods, standing up. When he takes your hand, can’t help but smile. You missed him. He leads you to his dorm and closes the door.

“Draco, I-” you start to say, but he cuts you off.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, his voice cracking a bit. You’re taken aback. Unsure of what to say, you simply walk forward and pull him into a hug. He rests his head on your shoulder and wraps his hands around your waist tightly. It’s warm, comfortable. This is where you belong.

“I’m sorry,” he says again. “I don’t really have an excuse. I was scared.” You pull back a it and look at him. His face is full of regret and… is that longing?

“Scared of what?” you ask. Draco, the Slytherin prince, scared? He doesn’t say anything, simply releases you and stands back. Before you can question him, he’s pulled off his shirt. You gasp.

A bird, a tiny bird identical to yours, marks his ribcage. Gingerly, you reach forward, but pause before touching his skin, looking to him for permission. He nods. You let your fingers trace the bird. He shifts slightly to put his arms around your waist again. Your hands leave the bird and wander around his skin, feeling the muscles tense under your touch.

“I was scared of this,” he says quietly. You look up at him, his eyes fixed on you, his lips slightly parted. Before you can respond, he presses his lips to yours, stealing your breath for a moment. Warmth, light, and comfort fills you. His lips are soft, his touch light. As you push forward, you feel his lips form a smile against yours, his hands holding you firmly against him. When you break away, breathing heavily, he presses his forehead to yours.

“The past few day I’ve spent not seeing you have been the worst of my life. I’m in love with you, y/n, I always have been. I’m marked to spend my life with you. I’m marked to love you, to protect you. Fate marked me for this, and through that fate has been kind to me.”

“You love me?” you ask quietly, barely registering what he’s saying.

“I do, more than anything. I love you.” He pauses. “Do you…”

“God, yes. I’ve loved you since the day I meant you. My heart has always been yours, Draco Malfoy. It was marked by fate.” You kiss him again, warm and soft and perfect. He pulls back for just a moment.

“Marked by fate,” he whispers. 

“Marked by fate,” you repeat.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and Comments are appreciated <3


End file.
